


Summer Rain

by LornaMae



Series: Lorna Mae's Oneshots/Drabbles [1]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaMae/pseuds/LornaMae
Summary: Myungsoo wished you would've known.





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Just a very short drabble I wrote for a friend.

I’ve always hated the decorative barrel. Its rusty edges reminded me of some pottery barn sprouted out of a cliché hipster movie. It just stood there, in the corner of his minimalist-designed apartment, like a brazen stain on a white linen. His collectible miniatures put on it like some stupid theatrical arrangement.

I hated it. And I hated the silence between us.

He stood in the opposite corner of the room, not a word spoken. His head hung low, he was averting all kinds of possible eye contact with me. He never changed afterall. It would never be Kim Myungsoo if it wasn’t for his nonconfrontational demeanor.

I wanted to be angry, but rather tears strung on my eyes like some uninvited guests.

So I blamed the barrel, perhaps it hurt my eyes. I don’t know.

“My taxi is here.” One of us had to have the courage to speak. It was me, it was always me. So he lifted his eyes, and nodded. He walked closer and tried to grab my luggage handle, “I’ll walk you down.”

We were both caught in silence as our eyes landed on each other’s glance. I couldn’t tell whether he had been crying, but the colors were gone from his face. While sprung of reds nested underneath my eyes.

Right when the thunderous storm started to grumble. We were both startled, and the rain began to hit the window pane mercilessly, “Summer rain.” He mumbled, looking outside, pretending as if the forecasted rain worth more attention than our farewell.

“I’m leaving.” It was a declaration, spoken out of spite, but ironically my voice broke at the end of the sentence, “Please, get rid of the barrell.”

He nodded, and it just broke my heart to see his smile, however forced but still was the most genuine warmth I’ve ever welcomed in my life.

I couldn’t even look at him for the last time. As I turned the door knob open, I could see his reflection followed me until the doorframe, but I rushed along down the hallway, trying to slip my way into the closing elevator.

But even amidst the thumping sound of my boots hitting the floor that I had deliberately made, I could still hear him, that lanky and quiet boy, saying, “I’m sorry.”

When the elderly woman asked me whether I was okay or not for I was bursting out crying as the elevator door closed, I spoke the words I wished I could say to him: “I don’t deserve him.”

***

You hated the barrel. But Dongwoo hyung gave me that for my 24th birthday, and although I agreed with you that it wasn’t the perfect match for the room, I had to keep it. I just never told you about that.

You stood in front of the barrel, looking down at it with obvious display of resentment on your face. It made me wonder, if I had gotten rid of the barrel – would you stay?

When the rain started to pour down, you finally broke some off that shield, and you looked at me. I know you had been crying, it made me wonder again – was there any of me left within you? If there wasn’t, you wouldn’t cry, would you?

“Summer rain.” I said, hoping that you’d remember. Do you remember how you burst out laughing after I kissed you for the first time? You flinched and awkwardly rattled on the weather, “Aish what is this Summer rain? So humid and warm!”

It was four years ago.

But I supposed memory wore off, and what I could see was only annoyance in your sight as you said that you were leaving.

You just couldn’t wait to get rid of me, could you? And I’m sorry for that. I knew that I was too quiet, too plain, too simple. But for better or worse, with you in it, this was home. “I’m sorry.” I said, like a pathetic dimwit trying hard to voice out an apology at moments too late. Perhaps you didn’t hear. it, the footsteps you made were too loud, and the typhoon roared mercilessly outside.

So I watched you closely, or perhaps pathetically, from underneath my window frame as you were leaving, until you disappeared behind the closing elevator door.

I knew somebody new would come around soon enough for you. Somebody would make better use of your wit, and your raw childish charm. I knew you’d feel loved again not too long after today. But it also made me think of myself, perhaps rather selfishly. And the thought struck me in the head like a bolt of lightning.

I don’t think I could ever find someone better than you.


End file.
